


Le Premier Tour

by thechestofsilver



Category: Raffles - E. W. Hornung
Genre: Bunny is dazzled what else is new, Gen, Ides of March inspired, Just roll with it okay, M/M, Modern AU, Raffles is reckless, References to Canon, Road Trip, possibly highly unrealistic jewellery theft, references to real places
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 01:55:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15808959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thechestofsilver/pseuds/thechestofsilver
Summary: An ordinary morning turns extraordinary when Harry Manders suddenly finds himself on a diamond drizzled road trip with his former schoolmate, and famous cricketer, A. J. Raffles.





	Le Premier Tour

I had just placed my coffee-to-go in the cup holder and put the gear in reverse when the passenger door opened, and a whirl of wool-coat-and-scarf below a dark felt hat collapsed in the seat. I stared at the man as he swiftly removed his black moustache and locked his eyes on me.

“It’s me!” he said. “Mind if I catch a ride?”

“Uhm… no, I suppose –”

“Wonderful, thanks. Let’s go then. Now!” he added urgently, as I continued to stare dumb-struck at his appearance.

As if on autopilot, I started the car, and had it out on the street in a matter of seconds.

“Where do you need to go?” I said, quickly speeding up to 20.

“Where did you intend to go?”

“The library.”

“Hm. Too crowded. Mind if we go somewhere else? Where do you live?”

“Mount Street,” I replied automatically.

“Too close,” he said, thoughtfully. “How do you feel about the suburbs? Richmond, perhaps? It’s a lovely day for a stroll in the park.”

The light turned red, and I took the opportunity to look closer at the man. Running into A. J. Raffles this morning had been a thrilling surprise, and I had been more than pleased to find that he remembered me even after all these years. First class cricketer, distinguished Londoner, and my own former schoolmate, he had always been something of a personal hero to me – even before his national fame. But though our brief chat outside the café had left me with a feeling of accomplishment and pride (the natural effect of being talked to like a peer by someone so socially and professionally advanced in comparison to myself), and though a sense of hopefulness had stayed with me after we parted, I had not expected any future association with the man; and to have him in my car twenty minutes later, crouching with a hat down to his brows while trying to slink out of an obvious disguise, was not exactly what I had meant by “Hope to see you again soon”.

“Who’s after you?” I asked bluntly. I could not believe he had simply decided to spend the day with me for no reason at all.

“Hm? Oh, no-one, I hope,” he said distractedly.

“So what’s with the costume? Theatre group? Publicity stunt?” I joked nervously.

“No, no, I was just in the jewellery store. Around the corner, on Bond Street,” he said, as if that would explain it all.

I tried hard to find a connection.

“You need a moustache for that? What, were you buying an engagement ring or something?”

“Ha! Not if I can help it.”

I shook my head.

“You’ve lost me, Raffles.”

“Quite the opposite, I believe I found you just in time. Take a right here!”

“But why –”

“Please?”

I met his eyes for two seconds, and on the third turned on the blinkers.

“Thanks awfully.”

You may wonder about my sanity, but there was simply something about Raffles that made you reluctant to ever question or argue with him; and for the next half hour, he kept me entertained while I steadily steered the car in a southwestern direction. Having dumped the disguise in the back seat, he sat leaned back with his hands behind his head and talked away as if the two of us going on an outing was a perfectly normal occurrence. Dressed in a simple marine blue sweater and black chinos, and with his black curls ruffled up, he appeared significantly younger than I was used to seeing him in brushed-up Instagram photos from various VIP events, or even in his whites at Lord’s with the cap turned backwards. I nearly forgot about the absurdity of the situation as I listened to him wittily summarise the morning news, and his well-informed comments about the current exhibition as we passed the Victoria and Albert Museum reminded me that he had always been an aesthete among athletes.

“So what were your plans at the library?” he asked at last, when we had crossed the Thames and were far away from the posh shops and crowded streets of central London.

“Just… hang out for a bit,” I replied sheepishly. “Pick up a book or two.”

“Anything particular in mind?”

“Oscar Wilde,” I said, wondering whether the answer would seem sophisticated or ordinary. “Nothing specific.”

“I have the whole collection, or nearly enough at least,” he said lightly. “You can borrow it, if you like.”

I cast a glance at him. Just the other day I had caught him on the T20 live stream while waiting for my pizza to heat up; and now he was curled up in the front seat of my Mini, offering to lend me his books as if he and I had been friends for years.

“Raffles, would you mind telling me what we are doing exactly?” I blurted out at last.

He let out a laugh, as if he had been waiting for the question all along.

“Of course, old boy. I owe it to you – especially after barging in on you like that. And your coffee has likely gone cold – my apologies. I’ll get you a new one.”

“Well?”

“Well,” he said and reached back for the coat. “I was in the jewellery store, like I said.”

And a second later, he emptied the pockets of the coat on his lap, laying before both our eyes a small heap of delicate necklaces drizzled with bright stones that sparkled in the cool morning light.

“You don’t mean you picked up all that?” I exclaimed.

I was fairly sure of just what shop he had meant: I had been in there myself once or twice, and remembered the price tags all too well.

“I certainly did.”

“But those are not diamonds, are they?”

“They most certainly are,” he smiled, and held up a rose gold chain with two – apparently – diamond speckled pendants toward the light. He studied it. “This one’s a beauty, isn’t it! I can’t say I care much for the other ones, but in my defence, I was in quite a hurry.”

“I don’t understand,” I said, trying hard to keep my eyes on the road. “You just went in for twenty minutes to buy a random set of ridiculously expensive necklaces, not even caring what they were?”

“Who says I bought them?” he said simply.

I fell silent, and for some long moments there was nothing but the road and the steady sound of the engine beneath us.

“What do you mean you did, then?”

“I took them.”

“Come on, Raffles,” I said, with a nervous laugh. “You’re not serious.”

“I am very serious. I stole it, the lot of it.”

He was joking, he must be. And yet… and yet I began to view the recent events in a new light. Was there really another scenario to better explain this strange conduct? Suddenly it seemed as if every piece of the puzzle fell into place, insane as the finished picture may be. And at once I was reminded of yet another facet of Raffles’ character, one that had been less known to the general public, but by chance all the more known to me. Could it be… but it was too outrageous.

“No. No, you’re messing with me.”

“I would never do such a thing.”

“It’s a practical joke, that’s what it is. Where’s the camera?”

“I sure hope there isn’t one.”

I finally turned to look at him. His eyes were fixed on me – damn him, they were the bluest eyes I had ever seen – and in them I read the truth, clear as crystal.

I shouted his name, then swiftly turned the car onto a side street and found the nearest parking spot. Shaking, I turned the engine off, then grabbed the steering wheel with both hands and breathed deeply. Raffles did not say a word, and only raised his eyebrows when I turned to him, as if he had asked what type of coffee I wanted and was waiting for my answer. I shook my head, finding my voice.

“You mean to say,” I began slowly, “that I just aided you… in a jewellery theft.”

The last words made my head spin, and I tightened my grip on the wheel.

“Yes, and I’m awfully sorry about that, my dear Bunny,” he said sincerely.

“You’re –”

I stopped and stared at him, completely forgetting about the jewels for a moment.

“People actually call me _Harry_ these days,” I said.

It had been years since I last heard that nickname. I had all but forgotten about it myself.

“Really?” he frowned, and cocked his head. “I’m sorry, but I never stopped thinking of you as _Bunny_.” He smiled a little. “Would you mind it very much if I called you that?”

It would have sounded patronising, even downright insulting, coming from anyone else. But there was not a shred of mockery in Raffles’ eyes or in his tone, and instead the words caused a sudden warmth to spread in my chest.

“Whatever you want,” I mumbled, and tried to gain some focus. “What do you want me to do?”

“Whatever you want to do.”

I looked at him in confusion.

“Look,” Raffles explained calmly. “I didn’t intend for you to be dragged into this, and I am not expecting you to take any more part in it. Of course I would appreciate it immensely if you did not give me away – but if you choose to do so, I will not hold it against you. You may call the police this instant if you like. I won’t stop you. I will not pretend I won’t try to make a run for it, of course; but I swear that no blame will fall on you as long as I can help it.”

His eyes were unwaveringly fixated on me. With every word spoken with sincerity, and his voice filled with remorse, there was no doubting he meant what he said. Someone in their right mind would have picked up the phone that instant, I imagine; but a wave of sympathy filled my heart, and I heard myself say:

“Of course I won’t give you away.”

His handsome face lit up in a wide smile, and he placed his hand kindly on my shoulder.

“You’re a good man, Bunny. I thought I could count on you.”

‘Good man’ were not the words I would have used to describe myself at that point. Slightly dizzy, I said:

“What now, then?”

“That’s up to you,” Raffles said, letting his hand fall. “I can leave right now, if you want.”

“Or?” I said – a little too quickly.

He smiled.

“Or… perhaps you want to claim your fare.”

He picked up a white gold chain and playfully let it dance on his fingers.

“It’s really no more than right,” he added.

I let my eyes rest on the necklace. The sky allowed a stream of sunshine to seep through the clouds at last, and the bright stones on the chain reflected it like only diamonds can, dazzling me with a cascade of colours. My gaze wandered to Raffles – his sapphire eyes twinkling kindly, his dark curls shining in the light – and back again to the chain in his hand. It was absolutely blinding. I could not look away.

“Or,” Raffles sighed at last, putting the necklace away and picking up his phone, “I could buy you a nice lunch, and you can ponder over option number one and two while we have a good time. Oh, look at that,” he said cheerfully and held the screen up for me to see. “ _The Hand and Flower pub_ , just down the road. What do you say?”

His face was innocence itself, his smile bright as could be. I found myself helplessly returning it and, giving up any attempt at sorting out my thoughts for the time being, shrugged resignedly.

“I don’t see why not.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I have been meaning for months to write a modern AU with these two. A prompt on Tumblr accidentally got me started, and this is the result. There will be two more chapters (currently working on it). Honestly, I see this as a bit of an experiment to see what works and what doesn't for a modern version, and also as a way to get to know canon better. Thoughts and comments are very welcomed! :)


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